


Officer Miranda

by sporkmetender



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Degrading Language, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, F/F, Handcuffs, Impersonation, Minor Violence, Mistaken Identity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 19:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1830331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporkmetender/pseuds/sporkmetender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk!Andy is celebrating eighteen months at Auto Universe when she encounters Miranda in an alley behind a leather bar. A divorced Miranda who regularly dresses as a cop and hires women for sex. Shameless, dirty, smutty, dubcon ridiculousness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Officer Miranda

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to skeeter451 for the beta and to gizmospur for helping me brainstorm increasingly ridiculous ideas for this fic. Originally posted on Livejournal in August, 2010.
> 
> This is your final warning that there is (initially) nonconsensual sex in this story, in addition to violence, abuse of authority, degrading language, and other kinky stuff. It's pretty light-hearted, considering, but I've tried to tag accurately. Please don't read it if any of this might be triggering for you.

Andy was much drunker than she usually allowed herself to get. But they’d had a two-for-one drink special at the club Lily and Doug had brought her to in order to celebrate her newly-single status and her pay raise for spending eighteen months at _Auto Universe_. And some reasonably cute guys had kept buying her rounds, and Andy really, really needed to cut loose and have fun—so she did. That loser Nate had finally fucked up for the last time. She was free, and she was NOT looking back, dammit!

She was regretting her overindulgence now, though. She’d stumbled out to get some air and, realizing belatedly that the club shared an alley with a pretty heavy-duty leather bar, managed to find her way into a deserted side alley, but the muffled thump of the bass was making her already fuzzy head ache like crazy, so she continued to make her clumsy way down the alley until she finally turned into a quiet cul-de-sac and rested her back against a fairly clean brick wall. She could practically feel those damn tequila shots oozing into her bloodstream.

“God,” she slurred, staggering a little as she tried to turn towards the sound of muffled voices from the neighboring alley. “I’m gonna _kill_ ‘em for lettin’ me drink this much.”

She dimly registered the sound of approaching footsteps—clipped, but definitely female.

And then, out of nowhere, there was a voice from somewhere to her left—and much closer than it should have been.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” said the voice.

Andy tried to turn her head, but her neck refused to cooperate and she was still in the process of pushing away from the wall when she felt a firm grip on her upper arm, causing her to drop her purse.

“What the fuck?” Andy said, and a shot of adrenaline gave her the extra boost she needed to finally get her knees under her and face her assailant…who was a cop. Damn. A very angry female cop—just what she needed. She looked a little old for the job, Andy couldn’t help thinking. Well, her hair was decidedly silver, at any rate. But she had amazing skin. Maybe not all that old, then. It occurred to Andy, after she’d been subjected to the cop’s decidedly hostile stare for at least twenty seconds, that the woman wanted an explanation for her (very drunken) presence alone in an alley in the middle of the night.

“Well you see, occifer, I mean officer, it’s kind of a funny story…” Damn, she sounded really drunk. The cop obviously thought so too, considering her eyebrows were now somewhere near her hairline.

“Do you have any idea,” she hissed, gripping Andy’s arm even tighter, “how much trouble a young, attractive woman could find alone in an alley in the middle of the night—drunk?”

Andy just stared at her. She could almost swear there were sparks flying out of the woman’s eyes, but that might just have been the influence of too many tequila shots and a very forceful personality. Before she even knew what was happening, she found herself being spun to face the wall and something cold and metallic closed around her left wrist.

“Just getting some…air,” Andy managed to get out, even as she felt the cop pull her right hand further behind her back and put something metallic around that wrist, too. “What’d I do, officer?”

“What did you do?” the cop hissed in her ear, sounding rather incredulous. “Do you have any idea where you are? What kind of people are in the bar less than three minutes from here? What could have happened to you out here at this time of night?”

She was practically spitting with fury, and Andy made a half-hearted effort to turn around so she could explain herself better. Her feet weren’t cooperating particularly well, so she tried to push away from the wall a little—give herself some room to maneuver. Only she couldn’t. A hint of real fear slithered its way into Andy’s befogged mind. “You cuffed me?” she said, with a fairly impressive lack of slurring.

“Yes, I did,” said the cop. “For your own good. Who knows what trouble you might get yourself into if you tried to run? I think you need to be taught a lesson, young woman.”

“Lesson?” Andy squeaked, suddenly feeling quite a bit more sober. “What kind of lesson?”

“Lesson number one,” the cop said, spinning Andy around so abruptly she nearly fell. “You will address me as ‘Officer Miranda’ at all times.”

“Okay,” Andy said, feeling a little shaky, even as she was none-too-gently forced back against the wall. “What kind of lesson, ‘Officer Miranda?’ And when are you going to read me my rights?”

“Who said I was arresting you?” asked the cop, and she gave Andy another shove against the wall and a vicious little smile. Andy was certain she’d have some ugly scrapes to show in the morning, and her shoulders were already starting to hurt a little.

“You have to read me my rights,” Andy stammered out, feeling more and more certain by the second that something was very wrong with this situation. “It’s the law.”

“Guess again, slut. And what did I tell you about how you should be addressing me?” And then, while Andy was still in shock from being called a slut by a police officer, she _slapped_ her. In the face. Hard.

Andy quailed. “Um. Officer Miranda?” she ventured timidly, after a good thirty seconds of terrifying silence.

“Yes, slut?” came the reply, accompanied by a slight tilt of her head and a nasty smirk that practically dared Andy to say something about her new appellation.

“Your badge…” Andy said, as a thin stream of light from somewhere above them happened to fall on the cop’s chest before winking out again. “There’s no number on it.”

“Of course there’s no number on it, silly girl,” Officer Miranda said. “It’s illegal to falsify a badge.”

Andy stared at her, completely at a loss for words. “You’re not a real cop?” she managed to ask, finally.

‘Officer Miranda’ gave her a withering glare. “Of course I’m not a real cop,” she said. “You think real police uniforms are cut this well?” And then she actually stepped back a little so Andy could more fully appreciate the fit of her remarkably well-tailored uniform.

“Are you…kidnapping me?” Andy asked, fighting to keep the growing alarm from her voice.

‘Miranda’ just raised one eyebrow.

“Um, I meant to say ‘are you kidnapping me, Officer Miranda?’” she corrected hastily.

“Good,” Miranda said. “I see you are not completely devoid of brain capacity, despite your fondness for drinking on the job. At least you’re learning, however slowly.” She rolled her eyes expressively.

“On the job, Officer?” Andy asked, once again feeling that she was missing a large and vital chunk of information.

“Ah, the innocent act. How well I know it.” Miranda shook her head. “You do it better than most, but I hope you know that it is completely unnecessary. I certainly didn’t hire you for your innocence.”

While Andy was still attempting to process this startling—and very erroneous—statement, she was once again shoved into the wall, but this time Miranda was pressed up against her much closer than would have been the case for a normal arrest, and she was tugging on Andy’s hair and actually pressing her mouth against Andy’s neck. And then she was kissing her—just with her lips, at first, but soon she was licking and biting too, covering Andy’s neck, shoulders, and cleavage with kisses and nips.

It had been a long time since Andy had had sex. It had been an even longer time since she’d felt truly desired by anyone—for herself and not just as a convenient warm body. And Miranda’s mouth was just so unbelievably warm and soft. In short, Andy’s brain, already reeling from the unexpectedness of the situation, short-circuited the first time Miranda sucked on her earlobe and refused to start up again for quite some time.

“God,” Andy managed to get out, between pants, after about ten minutes of this very enjoyable torture. “If all your lessons are like this, I’m surprised you don’t have students lined up for blocks. Officer.”

“Lessons?” Miranda asked, slowly pulling her head back. “That wasn’t a lesson. That was just a…warm-up. The real lesson is yet to come.” And here she gave Andy a look so heated that Andy actually felt herself clench a little bit, without any stimulation at all.

Andy squirmed. God, it had been a _really_ long time. She really should not be this wet right now. Really. Especially since Lily had dared her to go out without underwear tonight and—god help her—she’d done it. And here she was, with her hands cuffed behind her and getting scraped against a brick wall, her shoulders aching, and her neck and chest covered with (Andy was fairly certain) an impressive quantity of hickeys. From a complete stranger. In a police uniform. Who seemed to think that she was paying Andy to be here? It was all very confusing, but before Andy could gather her scattered wits (and catch her breath) enough to formulate a coherent question, Miranda was tugging her skirt up.

Andy sucked in a startled breath at the first rush of slightly cool air against her embarrassingly wet pussy. “What the hell…?” she started to ask, only to be silenced by the feel of a very soft, warm hand pressing against her naked cunt.

Officer Miranda paused as soon as her hand came in contact with Andy’s wetness. “What’s this?” she asked, sounding angry all over again. “No underwear? Alone, drunk, in an alley, with no underwear?”

Andy squirmed in embarrassment and reluctant arousal, unable to bring herself to explain the dare to this terrifying fake police officer. Unsure that she was even capable, at this point, of getting out a coherent explanation.

And if she was only marginally capable of coherent speech before, she was _definitely_ incapable of coherence after this psychotic not-a-cop gripped her hair tightly again and shoved three fingers all the way inside her. Andy grunted in surprise and discomfort, but she found, to her astonishment, that she was already starting to adjust to the sudden fullness. “What…?!” she finally managed to say, head still whirling from the alcohol and the unexpected encounter.

“Shut up, slut,” Miranda said. “You’ll speak when I ask you a question, and not before.” And she tugged Andy’s hair rather viciously for emphasis.

“Fuck!” Andy said, eyes watering. “That hurts!”

Miranda sneered unsympathetically and proceeded to rip Andy’s shirt most of the way open, sending buttons in every direction. “It was supposed to hurt. Didn’t I tell you to address me as ‘Officer Miranda?’”

Andy was trying to form a protest…really, she was. It was just that Miranda had slender, talented fingers and really soft skin, and Andy’s nipples were already hardening appreciatively under Miranda’s rough treatment. She’d be damned if she’d admit to enjoying it, though. “Get your hands off me, ‘Officer,’” she managed to pant out, with rather less conviction than she’d been hoping for. “You won’t get away with this.”

Miranda didn’t even bother to reply. She just pinned Andy more firmly against the wall to minimize all the squirming and bit her nipples until Andy was sure they couldn’t get any more swollen—yet somehow they did.

“Why are you doing this?” Andy asked, trying to sound angry instead of desperate for some kind of stimulation on her clit.

Miranda maintained her silence, but she pressed herself even closer to Andy, so that she was rubbing against Andy’s leg and using her own thigh pressed against the back of her hand to fuck Andy more forcefully. Andy groaned and bucked. Miranda grinned evilly from around Andy’s nipple and then went back to biting.

The addition of the heel of Miranda’s hand pushing against her clit was making it very hard to think, but Andy gradually realized that what she felt rubbing against her thigh was not how a woman was supposed to feel. In fact, there was something suspiciously long and hard under Miranda’s well-tailored pants. Andy’s eyes suddenly opened very wide.

Miranda gave Andy’s poor nipple one final suck and then came up for air. She looked very pleased with herself—she seemed to be enjoying Andy’s gobsmacked expression to a positively indecent degree. “Has the penny finally dropped?”

Andy could only stare as Miranda reached down and unzipped her uniform pants to reveal an obscenely large gleaming black dildo strapped around her hips. “It won’t fit!” she said, realizing a moment too late that she was doing a very poor job of conveying a lack of desire to have sex with Miranda.

Miranda pounced on her mistake immediately. “Oh yes it will. You’ll be begging for it before I’m done with you, my little slut. You could take it right now, if I let you.”

Andy told herself firmly that she was not at all interested in watching Miranda’s pale hand stroking up and down the length of her fake cock. She was also not dripping all over Miranda’s fingers at the thought of finally being fucked properly again. Nor did she feel a little jolt of arousal every time Miranda called her a slut.

“No I couldn’t,” she said, even as she felt her clit throb against Miranda’s hand. “It’s too thick!” And she definitely didn’t make a noise of protest when Miranda took her hand away.

“No such thing as ‘too thick,’ when you're this wet” Miranda said, holding her fingers up so Andy could see the glistening proof of her arousal.

Andy whimpered.

“…But if you’re feeling a little uncertain, I’ll be happy to loosen you up a little first.” And Miranda pulled out a nightstick. A real, honest-to-god, solid, black nightstick.

Andy shivered, accidentally scraping her shoulders again, and then gasped as Miranda drove four inches of the nightstick inside her at once. It should have been too much. It almost was, but somehow Miranda seemed to know exactly how much she could handle and gave it to her…with a vengeance. Andy bit her lip, determined that even if she couldn’t help enjoying it, she wouldn’t give herself away with any more embarrassing noises.

Miranda apparently took this as a challenge. “It’s a little too late to pretend now,” she whispered in Andy’s ear. “I can already tell how much you like it. You’re dripping all over my nightstick. I can _smell_ how wet you are.”

Andy found it incredibly unfair that Miranda had a voice that could turn her inside out with just a few whispered words. “Fuck you,” she hissed furiously in Miranda’s ear.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Miranda said, and she pulled the nightstick all the way out, placed the head of her cock at Andy’s entrance, and pushed.

Andy wailed. She couldn’t help it. The toy was at the very upper limit of what she could take, and she had never felt so full in her life. She closed her eyes without any conscious thought, completely focused on the sensation of being slowly, thoroughly fucked.

An awareness of other sensations gradually filtered back into Andy’s consciousness, the first of which was the insistent tug of Miranda’s fingers tangled in her hair. Andy did her best not to pay attention to the gentle puff of Miranda’s breath against her neck and the tickle of silky hair against her ear. Just when she could feel herself unwillingly getting into Miranda’s maddeningly slow rhythm, Miranda started whispering again. Telling Andy how good she felt, how soft her skin was, how wet Miranda was getting just from fucking her. Andy could tell she meant it, especially when she noticed a little hitch in Miranda’s breathing every time she buried her cock all the way inside Andy’s pussy.

Without even thinking about it, Andy rocked her hips into the next thrust and was rewarded with a muffled groan and a slight tremble from Miranda. Desperately wishing she had her arms free, Andy arched her back and started answering Miranda’s whispers with her own.

“Are you enjoying yourself, ‘Officer?’” she asked, deliberately making her voice as innocent and breathy-sounding as she could. “Do you like teaching girls like me a lesson? You like watching me lose control and fuck myself on your cock?”

Stunned at her own daring, Andy continued to writhe on the thick toy, taunting Miranda with every thrust—urging her to fuck Andy harder, faster, deeper. Telling her Andy could take anything she dished out. Even though Andy’s still-fuzzy brain warned her that this was not a woman to trifle with, she was on too much of a roll to stop now. “Come on, ‘Officer,’” she said. “I thought you were going to teach me a lesson, but it looks like you’re just interested in getting off.”

Meanwhile, Miranda gave no verbal sign that Andy’s taunting was having any effect on her, but she was now fucking Andy hard enough to drive her hips into the wall on every thrust, and her breathing was fast and harsh in Andy’s ear. Just as Andy could feel herself getting close despite not being able to rub her clit, Miranda leaned close and whispered in her ear again.

“Lesson’s not over yet, girl.”

Miranda pulled all the way out and gave Andy’s shoulders a sharp push, sending her to her knees.

Before Andy even had a chance to regain her equilibrium, Miranda was holding the head of the black toy an inch from her mouth and her other hand was wrapped in Andy’s hair.

“Lick it clean, slut, since you’re so eager to be taught a lesson,” and Miranda slowly but inexorably tugged Andy forward until she found her lips wrapped around the head of Miranda’s cock.

It was humiliating that she was being forced to give a blowjob to a fake cock after it had already been inside her, but Andy found herself powerless to resist. More, she found herself almost eager to taste herself on this silicone cock. She nearly choked in an effort to fit more of it in her mouth, and the whole time Miranda was gently but firmly guiding her head up and down the slick length of the toy, tugging gently on her hair when she was slow to respond and lightly scratching her scalp when she did well.

Andy’s eyes were closed, so she was unaware of Miranda moving closer until she felt something cold and slick pressed against her clit. She jerked her head back and looked down to see that she had just rubbed her clit on the toe of Miranda’s highly polished patent leather boot.

If she hadn’t already been close to an orgasm, Andy would have been disgusted, but the intoxicating combination of licking her own wetness off Miranda’s cock, feeling Miranda’s hand in her hair, and finally getting some pressure on her clit was too much to deny, and she rubbed herself shamelessly on Miranda’s shoe.

Just when Andy’s hips were jerking violently and she was groaning constantly around the thick toy in her mouth, Miranda pulled her leg backwards. Andy whimpered in protest and tried to scramble forwards, but Miranda tugged sharply on her hair and she subsided.

“Did you want something?” Miranda asked, sounding insufferably full of herself.

“Please,” Andy whispered, incredibly embarrassed to be on her knees and begging, but caring less and less all the time.

“Please what?” Miranda said, stroking her cock again with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Andy’s hair.

“Please let me come,” Andy sobbed, squirming at the sensation of cold air against her swollen clit.

“You want to come, my little slut?”

“Yes!” Andy said, tugging against the hand in her hair in an effort to get closer to Miranda.

“You want to rub yourself on my boot until you come?”

“Anything. Please! Please let me come, Officer Miranda,” Andy groveled shamelessly.

“Well,” Miranda said, letting go of Andy’s hair to caress her cheek, “I don’t know that you deserve to come. Have you learned your lesson yet?”

“I have, I swear! I’ll do anything!”

Miranda grasped Andy’s biceps and pulled her to a standing position with dizzying speed.

Head still whirling from the sudden transition, Andy staggered as Miranda shoved her back against the wall and pinned her.

“Do you remember,” Miranda said from right next to Andy’s ear, “when I told you that you would beg for my cock?” She pressed forward so that Andy could feel the slick toy caught between them.

Andy whimpered. “Yes. Can I have it? Please?”

“I’m not completely convinced that you want it, Miranda said, giving Andy a calculating look with plenty of heat behind it.

Andy ground her hips against the toy. “Please can I have your cock, Officer Miranda? Please? I want you to fuck me so bad.”

“Hmm,” Miranda said, holding the head of the toy right at Andy’s opening, “are you sure?”

“Fuck yes!”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Miranda said, and she pushed the strap-on into Andy so slowly she felt every inch stretching her all over again.

“Oh god,” Andy groaned. “Fuck. Oh, fuck. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Tell me how it feels,” Miranda suddenly demanded, stopping with only the head of her cock still inside.

Andy squirmed, wordlessly begging for more, but Miranda would not be moved.

“Tell me how it feels,” she repeated.

“So good,” Andy finally managed to say. “So goddamn fucking good.”

Miranda smirked in a way that made Andy clench and slowly pushed back inside. “Keep talking. Every time you stop talking, I stop fucking you.”

Andy, who could have come in seconds if Miranda would just touch her clit, keened desperately and started saying anything and everything that came into her head.

“Fuck yes. Christ that’s good. Don’t stop.”

“You want to come for me?” Miranda asked. “You want to come wrapped around my cock? You want me to rub your clit and make you come for me?”

“God yes,” Andy panted. “I want to come so bad. Please! I’ll do anything.”

Miranda bit her neck. Hard.

Andy squeaked.

“Anything?”

“Anything!” Andy wailed, past caring that her arms and shoulders were getting scraped a little more with every thrust of Miranda’s hips.

“You’ll do anything for me, as long as I let you come?” Miranda asked again, teasing Andy’s earlobe with the tip of her tongue.

Andy’s hips bucked so hard she almost fell over. “Whatever you want, Miranda. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s so good. Fuck, I’m close. Please let me come. Please!”

Miranda stopped moving long enough to gain Andy’s complete attention, brought one hand to her mouth, and slowly licked her thumb. She moved her hand down Andy’s body just as slowly, finally coming to a stop half an inch from Andy’s throbbing clit.

“You want me to touch your clit?” she asked, with a shallow, teasing thrust.

Andy groaned. “Please. Oh, please.”

When Miranda’s thumb finally grazed her clit, Andy lost it. “Jesus fucking Christ!” she yelled, rubbing herself shamelessly against Miranda’s hand. “God! Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Miranda didn’t stop.

Within seconds, Andy was jerking uncontrollably and coming so hard (and so loudly) Miranda was forced to bite Andy’s lips just to keep her relatively quiet.

As soon as Andy seemed even vaguely coherent again, Miranda had backed up enough to pull the toy out of Andy’s now extremely tight pussy, shoved Andy to her knees again, and undone a strap somewhere, so that the toy now dangled against one of her thighs. Andy, still reeling from her orgasm, was overwhelmed with the smell of pussy, and then suddenly Miranda was rubbing herself against Andy’s lips, and Andy’s tongue was darting out to lick her clit, and Miranda was coming all over Andy’s face with a low, hoarse cry that sent shivers up Andy’s spine.

Faster than Andy would have believed possible, Miranda wiped the toy off on Andy’s ruined shirt, tucked it back inside her pants, zipped herself up, and tossed a key on the ground at Andy’s feet.

“Good work,” she said. “You’ll be seeing me again.” And she turned on her heel and walked off.

Andy gaped after her blankly for a few minutes, and then gradually became aware that she was sitting in a dirty alley, still tipsy, in a mostly ruined outfit and smelling distinctly of pussy. Oh, and she was still handcuffed. With a great deal of effort, Andy inched her way over to the handcuff key, got herself loose, picked up her purse, and made the most embarrassing phone call of her life.

_The Next Day_

“Emily,” Miranda called.

Emily came running into the inner office, away from the inquisitive ears of the rest of the staff.

“I don’t care where you found that girl from last night, but do whatever you have to do to hire her again.”

Emily’s expression slowly morphed from dutiful to confused, and then to horrified.

“But Miranda,” she said, trembling slightly, “didn’t you get my text? The agency had to cancel at the last minute. There was no girl last night.”

Miranda stared at Emily.

Emily stared at Miranda.

They never spoke of it again.

_Two Weeks Later_

Andy was very, very distracted in the yearly budget meeting of Elias-Clarke publication editors (and assorted semi-important lackeys like her to take care of the paperwork). Not just because of the inexplicable presence of someone she most definitely recognized, and had hoped (or was it feared?) she would never see again, but because said somebody (apparently a very important somebody—how had she not known this?) had been undressing Andy with her eyes for the duration of the meeting.

How had this woman been working at Elias-Clarke without Andy knowing about it? And more importantly, what the hell was she doing hanging around in dark alleys mistaking perfect strangers for sex workers? Andy fully intended to ask her about it as soon as she could get her alone, but somehow she found herself being thoroughly kissed against the elevator wall instead.

Something similar happened during their next encounter as well, only with significantly more groping involved.

In fact, it took a good three months of very, very satisfying sex before Andy ever got a full explanation.

Andy laughed so hard she cried when Miranda finally explained the sheer embarrassing unlikelihood of the mix-up. Only the threat of Miranda withholding sex managed to sober her up. But she did get Miranda to wear the handcuffs for the next few nights. 


End file.
